The Sound of Silence
by Alexokerry
Summary: Duo's the lead singer of the hottest band on the planet, Deathscythe. He, Quatre, Trowa and Zechs decide to refurbish an old opera house and gift it to the community that they grew up in. But there's more to the situation than meets the eye and after an attempt on Duo's life, powers that have been hidden for over a hundred and fifty years begin to awake.


**Here's the beginning of a new tale. And for those that are worried, I am still working on 'Diamond in the Rough', the next chapter is almost ready to go.**

**As always; I don't own, so don't sue!**

**The Sound of Silence**

**Chapter One**

Duo stood on the empty stage. His sound check got over an hour ago but he just couldn't bear the thought of leaving the platform he and his band had spent over six months bringing back to life. He had invested his cut of the proceeds from their last album on the old, run-down theatre; it had turned into his pet project. He took in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of fresh varnish, the tangy bite of cut wood and the subtle fragrance of new fabric. The newly refurbished building would be christened by a concert from his band and the profits would help to run it while he toured the world supporting their new album. Deathscythe was the hottest group in the country and they could have anything they wanted.

The lead guitarist, Trowa Barton, stood over in one corner talking to Quatre Raberba Winner, who played keyboards; the two of them exchanged discrete kisses. Their bassist, Wu Fei Chang, ran through a few bars of one of their songs and then returned his instrument to the guitar stand. He quietly walked off the stage and, presumably, went looking for his wife, Sally. The rhythm guitarist, one Zechs Merquise, was in deep conversation with their manager, Treize Khushrenada. The red-haired man caused Duo's skin to crawl: something wasn't right about him. He kind of reminded the braided boy of Henry VIII and something Sir Thomas More once said of him, that if by More's death, Henry could gain a few more acres of French land, the king would gladly kill the man and count himself as fortunate that it didn't cost him more. Khushrenada would do anything to sell albums and if one of the members of the band were killed in the process, it would just be collateral damage.

He laughed at his flight of fancy, there's no way the overzealous manager could kill him and get away with it. The braided boy sang a few bars of the first song; the bridge kept giving him fits and he tried to smooth out the rough spots. His voice over the mic hid the sound of something breaking and heading toward the stage. Only when Trowa began screaming at him did Duo realize that he might be in danger. One of the heavy lights had broken loose and now it headed right for the chestnut-haired beauty. He had enough time to close his eyes and whisper a brief prayer before it landed. He really didn't want to see what would happen to him when it struck.

The sound of displaced air and a strong arm encircling his waist were the last things Duo registered; the very edge of the falling light clipped his temple and he lost consciousness.

* * *

_Duo stood on the stage, right where he had been when whatever happened, except that he wasn't himself and he definitely wasn't male. He/she drew in a deep breath or at least as deep of a breath that she could with the restricting corset cutting her in half, and began to sing. An aria from an unknown opera rose from her throat and the notes hung in the air, due to the acoustics of the theater. Clapping followed the last few notes as they faded into the rafters above the stage._

_Treize Khushrenada stepped out where Duo could see him. "Bravo, Miss Dolcette," he said, coming out and grabbing her hands before she could pull them away. "You must join me for dinner."_

_Dolcette removed her hands from his and stepped back, preventing him from grabbing them again: "I'm sorry, Mr. Khushrenada, but I don't think your fiancée would appreciate if I did." She looked over at the stunning, statuesque platinum blonde woman waiting in the wings._

"_Millarda will do as she is told. She's a very understanding woman and wants me to have the best of everything."_

"_That may be true, however, I don't feel comfortable coming between a betrothed couple." She moved toward the wings, wanting to get away from the man. _

_Treize reached out and grabbed her wrist, hard, grinding the bones together in the delicate joint. Dolcette cried out in pain and struggled against the brutal grip._

"_I made you, whore," he ground out. "And I can destroy you, understand? Now, I expect to see you in my hotel room tonight. You will be there before the clock strikes midnight or your career will turn into a pumpkin, understand?"_

"_I am sorry, Mr. Khushrenada," a new voice broke into the conversation. "But Dolcette will be here with the rest of the company, running through the entire program." Heero approached the two, his body tight with repressed emotion. _

"_Yuy," Treize sneered._

"_Khushrenada," Heero responded flatly. _

"_To what do we owe the pleasure of your company? Hm?" Treize let Dolcette's wrist go and she pulled it against her chest to try and stop the pain. _

"_To the fact that you're manhandling my star vocalist and upsetting her and the rest of the cast. Now, why don't you take your over-paid arse out of here and leave the work to people that actually know what they're doing," Heero stated in his lightly accented English._

"_Why you little ….."_

"_Treize," Millarda broke in. "We're leaving." She swept out of the wings and down the aisle._

"_Heero!" Millarda's sister Relena squealed as she barreled out of the wings, heading right for the Japanese man's side. She went flying across the wooden floor on her face as her foot tripped over Dolcette's and landed in a heap of pink and white frills and lace. The blonde girl glared up at the vocalist with a look that if it had been a weapon would have killed the older woman in a single blow._

"_I'm going to kill her," Heero muttered under his breath only loud enough that the songbird could hear him._

"_Relena," Dolcette said, helping to right the girl and get her back on her feet, "you really should be more careful. If you keep falling like that, you probably should see a physician."_

"_The only reason I fell is because your big foot got in my way. Perhaps you should leave your betters alone and go sing your silly songs somewhere where they appreciate loose women." She flashed her rival a nasty sneer._

'This one and Treize are two of a kind,' _Dolcette thought to herself. She moved to bring the pink princess down to the proper size and Heero stepped between the two combatants._

"_ENOUGH!" he barked. "Relena: leave we have work to do and you're not welcome here. And as for you, Miss Dolcette, you have a whole opera to preform and don't have time to fight with visitors."_

"Hai, Otto-san_," the chestnut-haired beauty said, ducking her head. _

_Heero gave her a pleased smile and motioned for a couple of the stagehands to escort the fuming blonde out of the theater. He then headed back to the orchestra pit to continue with leading the musicians. The sounds of his music filled the room and Dolcette's voice followed. He allowed himself a tight smile at the sound of his wife's voice. While it was still illegal for a non-white to marry a white woman in the state of California, love often didn't care for color, class or breeding. They had found a willing priest and he had married them without any qualms at all. Now he had everything that he wanted in his life. The chance to make music that would outlive him, like Mozart, a loving wife and a descent place to live. _

_Heero's brow furrowed as he thought about where they were living at this point. Things worked very well and no one found out their secret, as long as they were living in one of the many hotels that catered to the various actors, actresses, dancers and singers that graced the stages of many of the theaters in this district, but once they decided to move into a normal home on one of the many quiet streets, it would be impossible to hide who was coming and going from the house. Even if Dolcette were to have a group of people come and go to hide Heero's visits, there would be no hiding a child of mixed blood._

'Maybe we should head to Europe, especially France before we start having children,'_ he thought to himself. _'That would at least get us away from Relena and Khushrenada. Yes, that's the ticket. I'm sure that Quatre, Trowa, Katherine, Iria, Wufei and Sally would be more than willing to join us and then my Dolcette wouldn't have to be all alone in a strange place. If we dared, we could move back to Japan and live in Nakahama, there are enough foreigners there that no one would think differently about a few more. Although, we would probably run into the same problem there that we have here; only in reverse.'_ He sighed, heavily and turned his attention back to the music and allowed the sounds to carry his worries away._

* * *

_Dolcette rested her head on Heero's chest and sighed a deep, happy sigh. They had just finished making love and both of them basked in the afterglow of their passion. She smiled and move her left ring finger to allow the small diamond on it to catch the light and send it back to __him__ in prismatic colors. Just like their happiness, these little flakes of light were and just as fleeting._

"_You're awfully quiet tonight, My Heart," Heero murmured softly in her ear._

"_Just not looking forward to moving. I mean I am, but if we move into a normal neighborhood, there will be nosey Nancys everywhere and never any peace. I suppose we can have Quatre, Trowa, Wufei and their wives come over every night, but then you'd have to leave with them. But if we stay here in the hotel, that makes us easy to find by the local bottom feeders."_

"_Bottom feeders?" Heero responded, not recognizing the phrase used._

"_People like Treize and Relena."_

"_Ah. True, but don't you think that our baby should have a yard to play in?"_

"_True, but where can we go and still be a family? The State of California has made it illegal for a white woman to marry a non-white and Treize would find some way to make our lives miserable if we stay here. Besides, in a few months there's no way that I will be able to hide the fact that I'm, what's the word I'm looking for … increasing."_

"_I've been thinking perhaps France. Over in Europe, they aren't as stiff about the colors not mingling. Classes however are a different thing."_

"_What about my career?" she said, sitting up._

"_Don't worry, actresses, dancers and opera singers are supposed to be free spirits and marry where they will. So, I don't think there will be any problem over there." He drew her closer, pressing his lips against hers and plundering the depths of her mouth with his tongue. The sleepy chirps of the birds just outside the window warned him of the on-coming dawn._

"_Damn!" she swore as he slid out of the bed and began pulling on his clothing. After he finished dressing, he stole one more kiss and headed for the door._

"_Don't forget to lock up after I leave and then get some more sleep. You and the child need the rest."_

"_Yes, Momma!" Dolcette laughed. She waited until he left and then got up and relocked the door._

_As she never opened the portal, she missed the sight of blonde hair and glaring blue eyes watching Heero leaving her rooms. _

* * *

Trowa watched in horror as one of the lights headed right for their lead-singer. All he had time to do is grab Quatre, push the petite blonde's face against his chest and scream out a warning. A fast moving figure swung down from the rafters scooped up the braided boy and almost got him out of harm's way. The very corner of the fixture clipped the side of Duo's head before both figures disappeared into the high catwalks and ladders of the theater.

"What the hell?!" Trowa gasped, trying to untangle himself from his boyfriend's grasp.

"Trowa?" Quatre questioned, looking toward the area where Duo had last stood.

"Duo's gone," Trowa said, racing over to the fallen light and looking it over. "I mean, he was right here until just before the light hit and now he's not."

Quatre closed his eyes and felt. He turned and turned until he recognized the signature of their lead singer. "I've found him!"

"Where?"

"Near the top of the theater. Somewhere up there."

"Let's go!" Trowa said, grabbing his boyfriend's wrist and dragging him toward the stairs/ladder at the back of the auditorium. He allowed Quatre to start up ahead of him and he used his body as a safety net for the petite blonde.

* * *

The first sense to return was the one of smell. The room Duo was in smelled of dust, old linen, sandalwood and an unfamiliar cologne. He could hear the sound of someone breathing in the room with him, but his eyesight didn't return.

"You have a slight concussion," came a deep, sensual voice in the darkness. "Don't worry, your friends will be here soon. Dolcette, don't trust Khushrenada, he'll kill you. Get rid of him and live your life as it was meant to be lived."

"Wh-who?" Duo croaked, his voice thick with disuse.

"Duo, you are starting to wake to yourself. Remember who you once were and we will meet again," the voice said and the chestnut-haired beauty heard fabric rustling just before warm, strong lips covered his in a deep, possessive kiss. The creak of a window and the sounds of traffic coming in from below were the only sounds that he heard until the door flew open.

"Duo!" Quatre shouted as he and Trowa entered the room. With his friends there the braided boy felt safe and he let his grasp on consciousness go and slipped into oblivion.

_Otto-san = husband_


End file.
